


The Forgotten Queen

by Jazz44



Series: The Forgotten Queen [1]
Category: A Courtesan of Rome (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-12-26 17:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18286520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazz44/pseuds/Jazz44
Summary: When Marc Antony pardons Lysandra for her crimes against Julius Caesar, he gives her the choice of staying in Rome or returning to Gaul. Scared for her life, she makes the decision of leaving Rome behind-and those she loved.





	1. Fear and Loathing

Lysandra was going home.

The thought hadn’t brought her any comfort. Not when she was fleeing Rome. Antony had pardoned her for her crimes against Caesar days ago. She has been trapped in a whirlpool since, tumbling violently in the same water that was filling her lungs. Time was biting at her feet, a wolf chasing a hare. It didn’t matter how fast she ran or how often she hid, the wolf will catch up to her soon enough. And as the days passed the more Lysandra feared that Antony would change his mind and sentence her to death.

Her hands trembled as she packed. Fear controlled her every action and every thought. She felt like she was suffocating, as if someone was strangling her.  _ Calm down, breathe. Everything will be okay. _ Lysandra had been telling herself for days, with little relief.

She cast a nervous look around her room, her dresses caught her attention then. She hadn’t planned on taking any of them with her, especially since she would have no use for them once she returned to Gaul. But she would be lying to herself if she were to say that she wouldn’t miss them. She would miss how they had made her feel. Beautiful. Powerful. She would miss Lena, the woman that had gifted them to her. The woman that had became a mother to her when her own mother was on the other side of the Republic. She would miss them.

Lysandra bit her lip in uncertainty, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave them behind. The more she told herself that she didn’t need them the more she wanted them. After some hesitation, she crossed to the other side of the room, to where her dresses hung.

She would allow herself this one last luxury.

A mint-green one called to her. She reached out for it delicately, as if she were reaching for a newly blossoming flower. The cool color calmed Lysandra instantly. It was a calmness that she desperately needed. It reminded her of warm spring days and cool breezes. Of birds chirping, rivers flowing, dogs barking, and children playing. It reminded her of Gaul. 

It was the dress that she had worn when Cassius took her out of Rome to visit his favorite lake. The air was clean that day, and for those few hours she was free of Rome. It was the first time that she felt like she didn’t have to hide anything, even from a patron. She and Cassius had talked about love and joy and marriage that day.

_ “And is that what you want for yourself?” _

_ What did she want? She glanced at him under her eyelashes, did she want to marry someone like  _ him?  _ He was undeniably handsome and her heart raced every time she saw him. And he was gentle and kind, but Lysandra hadn’t thought much about marriage before. She just knew that if the Catauni were still around, she might have been married already. But even before her village was destroyed, she never really thought much about love. Despite what her mother had told her, Lysandra didn’t think she would ever marry for love. She had just hoped that her husband wouldn’t control her every action and every word, or that he wouldn’t hold her back with his own needs.  _

_ She frowned to herself. Cassius was the first man that made her heart ache but she didn’t know him that well. And she wasn’t ever going to allow him to claim her. So she settled for a response that she hoped wouldn’t encourage him to pursue her, “I’ve always wanted to be my husband’s equal. I told my father I would never marry a man who could not accept me as chief of the Catauni.” _

_ He smiled at her, “Then I salute you, Catauni chieftain.” _

_ Her heart raced. Damn him for being so charming.  _

She brought the cloth to her forehead and sighed. She hadn’t realized she was smiling until she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her smile dropped at what she saw.

A pale, wide-eyed girl looked back at her. Her cheeks were sunken in. Dark circles tainted her under eyes. She looked frail, so...  _ hollow.  _

Lysandra had to take a step back, to distance herself away from the girl in the mirror. That girl in the mirror wasn’t her, she refused to acknowledge that it was. That she had allowed herself to turn into  _ that.  _ But she couldn’t deny it. That was her, that was who Lysandra of the Catauni had become. Fear had turned her into a shadow of her former self.

Everyday she feared the repercussions of her actions.

Of what the Egyptian Queen might do to her and her mother.

That Antony would change his mind about pardoning her.

_ Don’t think of him. _

Yet, her gaze flickered to the dress that she had worn to Vulcanalia. The bright colors of the flame drawing her to it as she reached for it. Antony had made her his queen that day, and she had felt like one. She had all of Rome wrapped around her finger and now Rome hated her.  _ Just like Antony hates you.  _

She shook her head, trying to shake his memory out of her mind, but it was useless. The more she tried to not think of him, the more he entered her thoughts. It was as if he could feel her pushing him out of her mind and he decided that he didn’t want to be pushed out. He didn’t want to be forgotten, especially not by her. It didn’t matter what she wanted when it came to him. It didn’t matter how hard she tried to fight him because he always won. 

_ “He can win a war dead drunk,”  _ Locausta had told her. She hadn’t known the half of it.

Despite herself, the memory of the last time she had seen Antony burned her, it branded her.

_ Lysandra felt like he was holding a burning torch up to her face. Once the image of that torch entered her mind she thought it was actually happening. Instinctively she turned her face away from him and shut her eyes. Her body began to shake. Beads of sweat cascaded down her back. The pulse in her throat quickened. Her breathing came in short, shallow breaths. She could barely hear what he was saying over the ringing in her ears. Something about crucifixion? _

When she was able to pull herself out of the memory, she realized that she was shaking. The memory had consumed her to the point where she had felt like she was experiencing it again. It felt like Antony was in the room with her. She shuddered as she remembered how he took great joy in seeing her scared, at the smug look on his face as he used his power over her.

He had stripped her of everything that she owned, everything that she was. He had threatened and embarrassed her. She thought of this and only this, until all she saw was red.

The hatred she felt for him soon matched the hatred that she felt for Rome. He was the most despicable man she had ever encountered.

He was more bloodthirsty than Tribune Rufus. 

He was more vile than Legate Aquila. 

He was more corrupt than Caesar.

He was her greatest enemy and she almost fell for him.

Everyone had warned her about him, but she hadn’t realized how right they were.  _ They _ hadn’t understood how right they were. She should have plotted to kill him as well. Then she would never have to live in fear. Who would have punished her for his death anyways? With Antony gone,  _ she _ could have ruled Rome. A muscle ticked in her jaw. She should have killed him. Her lip curled, “That no good, hard-hearted, spiteful, wicked, loathsome-” She clutched the dress. “ _ I hate you Marc Antony. _ ” 

Artemis growled at Lysandra from her spot on the floor.

Lysandra whipped around to Artemis, her voice coming out in a shrill, “ _ Whose side are you on! He threatened to kill me _ !” 

Artemis stiffened in shock, then her posture deflated. She let out a weak whimper as her head bowed down. 

Lysandra’s heart broke at the sight of her loving dog being upset, and it was all her fault. Lysandra’s lip started to tremble, “I’m sorry, Artemis.” She sat on the floor next to Artemis, pulling the dog on to her lap, “Things are just complicated between Antony and I right now. I’m sorry for yelling at you.” Lysandra gently laid a kiss on Artemis’s forehead, mumbling the apology over and over again, until her gaze flickered up. She saw the amphora that Cassius had gifted her months ago.

It laid on the floor, just under the rack of her dresses.

It only took a moment for her to decide that she wanted it. Pushing Artemis off of her lap, she reached for it, then she sat at her spot next to Artemis once again. Holding onto it, observing it, it occurred to her how hollow it was. That she felt as hollow as the pitcher was. She felt empty. 

But as Lysandra’s nail dragged across the amphora, she noted the different sounds it made as she tapped and scratched at the pottery. The music called to her and she began to hum a tune. And that tune turned into a song. 

Once she finished singing, a calmness overtook her. For a moment she felt at peace. It was the most powerful feeling she had ever felt. It was stronger than hatred or lust. It was stronger than fear. And she thought to herself-if something that was empty could be full of music, then maybe one day she could be full of life. 

Maybe once she returned to Gaul, she could be happy. She’ll never have to fear for her life again. With her freedom, she could finally do whatever her heart desired in the place that desired her.

The thought of a future in Gaul made her burst into tears. She feared that the Gaul of her childhood was forever gone, replaced by the one that Rome had left behind. That the sacred grove was still on fire, billowing smoke into the air. Her friends and family dead on the ground, blood forever flowing from their wounds. Roman soldiers patrolling their grounds, with orders to kill her on sight. 

Rome had taken everything from her. Her home, her loved ones, her freedom, her hopes and dreams.  _ I will never get them back.  _ She cried harder.

Artemis began to lick Lysandra’s tears away. Lysandra tried to tell Artemis that everything was fine. She wanted to tell Artemis that once they were back in Gaul, they would hunt and play everyday. That the winters in Gaul were the loveliest in the world. That they would be safe and happy. But her anxieties overtook her and instead she said, “I’m scared, Artemis.” 

Artemis canted her head up to Lysandra. 

“I’m scared of Antony,” she whispered, “I’m scared of what he might do to me if I stayed here. I’m even scared to think that he might show up in my village.”

In her sleep, Lysandra saw Antony killing her. Stabbing her. Twenty-three times.

When she was awake, she thought he was following her. Tracking her. Hunting her.

Cassius had once told her that Antony had him jumping at shadows-he was making her do the same.

Though Antony wasn’t the only one that unsettled her...

A tear fell down Lysandra’s face as she admitted, “I’m scared of Cassius.” She had once told him that she liked it when he got bloodthirsty, but she had barely recognized him when he killed Caesar. She couldn’t forget the bloodlust in his eyes. The way his muscles strained as he lunged at Caesar with his knife. It had stunned her to her place. When she heard Caesar’s cries, she knew that she had lost her Cassius.

She had turned him into a monster. She began to fear how much power she could have over a person. Especially a person she had claimed to love. She didn’t deserve him, she never took care of his heart. She was too selfish for Cassius.

Lysandra stiffened in alarm when she heard the sound of footsteps and the clinking of armor as someone grew closer to her sleeping chamber. She wiped her face once more and did her best to compose herself. She reached for a blanket on her bed, pretending that she was busy folding it.

“What were you thinking about?”

“About how much I hate Antony,” Lysandra said with an air of superiority.

“Ahh. So the usual.”

Lysandra grinned at Syphax, “The usual.”

Syphax crossed the room and sat down beside her. After he petted and talked to Artemis for a few moments, Syphax turned his attention towards her. “What were you actually thinking about?”

“That was what I was thinking about.” She flinched at how defensive she sounded. At how high pitched her voice had gotten. She hoped that Syphax believed her. He didn’t.

“Okay… what  _ else _ were you thinking about.”

She gave him a sly smile and flicked the tip of his nose with her finger, “So clever.” Her smile dropped and she folded her hands into her lap. “Lots of things. I-” she closed her eyes, it was difficult for her to share her true feelings. Ever since her training as a Courtesan began, she was taught to hide what she was feeling. Trained to smile and be charming. To never let any Roman man into her mind and heart. But… this was Syphax. Her truest and dearest friend.

Her gaze flickered to him, he looked at her expectantly. But she still couldn’t bring herself to tell him her true thoughts. So instead she said, “I just realized that I’m going to miss Rome.” Her lip curled in disgust, “Well, not  _ Rome,  _ but my friends. Sabina, Lena, Cassius… I think I might even miss that scoundrel.” Lysandra looked at Syphax and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, resting her chin on his shoulder. In a voice just above a whisper, she said, “I’m going to miss you so much, Syphax. You were my first friend here, and for many years, my only friend. I wish you could come with me.”

Syphax was silent for a moment before he said softly, “Why  _ didn’t _ you ask me to go to Gaul with you?”

She was going to confess her doubts to him when she noted the way he had asked her that question. Lysandra pulled away from him as she scrutinized the tone in his voice. Was he implying…?

He grinned at her. She blinked at him before shaking her head in bewilderment, “Wait… are you saying that you’re coming back to Gaul with me?”

Syphax shrugged, she could tell that he was trying to hold back a smile. “I said no such thing. You’re putting words into my mouth.”

“Yes! But the way you said it-”

“How did I say it?”

Lysandra threw her hands up in agitation, then she threw herself onto the floor. She was annoyed with herself, rather than with Syphax- she had been so concerned about her future that she hadn’t even asked him about his.

As Syphax lied down beside her, he reached for her hand, “Your father asked me if I would like to go back to Gaul with you and your family… I was hoping that you would have asked me.”

Lysandra opened her eyes and stared at him meekly. “I was too scared to ask, to hope. I was afraid that you would say no and that I would never see my best friend again.”

“Why did you think that?”

“Because I knew that Rome meant everything to you. You said that it was like traveling to the gods. I thought you would never want to leave the place that you had dreamed about going to your whole life.”

“Yes, well, sometimes dreams turn out to be nightmares,” Syphax murmured darkly, a haunted look came across his face. Silence overtook them then. They both knew that Rome was as destructive as it was beautiful.  _ She _ was as destructive as she was beautiful. Every day she wondered if killing and manipulating Romans was the wisest thing to do. She had made it out alive, but that didn’t mean others hadn’t suffered because of her.

Syphax had became a gladiator because she had murdered Tribune Rufus. They had barely managed to free him from the arena. She had implanted the seeds in Cassius’s mind to kill Caesar. She imagined he would have to pay for those consequences eventually, while she got to return home. She made Antony believe that she loved him, that she would do anything for him. Now he realized that Lysandra was a snake in the grass, but he had realized it too late.

Even Locusta had worried that Lysandra would ruin Sabina.

She was poison, destroying the lives of those around her from the inside. Letting them consume her while she weakened their resolve and their senses, realizing that she was the poison too late. She was a blade, tearing open their skin slowly and then slitting throats and stabbing hearts. Leaving them to desperately stop the blood flow from their wounds as their heart gave out. 

She was death. 

The thought didn’t satisfy her as she thought it would have.

As the silence grew, Lysandra became more restless. Her fingers began to fidget. Muscles in her body began to twitch. Turning to him once more, she asked, “What did you decide?”

Her heart skipped a beat, waiting for his response.

“To accompany you, of course.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “Good, because I probably would have cried if you said no.”

“Probably?” Syphax asked, feigning being hurt, his hand going to his heart. He smiled and that smile was contagious. She couldn’t help but grin back, “Yes, I would have cried.”

He got up with a groan, then helped Lysandra up to her feet. “I should leave now. I need to finish packing and I told your father that I would help him prepare for the trip before we left.”

“Of course.” Lysandra hugged him once more, “I’m glad you’re coming with us, I truly am.” She stepped away from him, holding onto his shoulders, she smiled up at him, “Welcome to the family, brother.”

She could have sworn pain flashed in his eyes, but then he smiled. “I am glad to be a part of it… sister.”

He quickly turned away from her and not for the first time, she wondered if Xanthe was right of Syphax’s feelings for her.

Syphax stopped at the door, then turned back to face her. “You should go visit him… tell him goodbye.”

Lysandra followed Syphax’s gaze to the amphora in her hands. Not realizing that she had picked it up once again. Lena had told her that Cassius had picked it specifically for her. Had pointed out that Paris was giving an apple to Venus. Cassius giving his heart to Lysandra.

Lysandra held the amphora close to her chest and nodded, letting Syphax know that she would say goodbye to Cassius. “I-I-do you think it’ll make me weak if I decided to keep this and take it back to Gaul with me?”

Syphax smiled at her, “No, Lysandra, I think that’ll be very brave of you.”

“It’s not too sentimental?”

He chuckled, “I think it’s the right amount of sentimental. And no, I don’t think it would ruin your reputation.”

Lysandra smirked at him, “I wasn’t going to ask you that. I was going to ask you if you would guard it with your life. I’m counting on you to make sure it doesn’t break.”

He gave her a knowing look, “I’ll make sure that  _ you  _ don’t break it.”

She pursed her lips at that, he had a point...

Syphax chuckled at her expression and then walked out of her room. Artemis watched Syphax leave. “Go,” she told Artemis, “I’ll be fine on my own.” With that, Artemis followed Syphax out of the  _ scholae _ , her nails scratching the tile as she trailed after Syphax, barking happily at him.

Now alone, Lysandra was able to focus on packing without interruptions. She allowed herself to take one dress with her. She reached for one blindly, choosing to stuff it into her bag without looking at it. Hoping it wasn’t one of the revealing dresses she had worn for Antony or for Caesar. 

An hour later, Lysandra had finished most of her packing, her bag was nearly overflowing. She hadn’t planned on taking so much stuff, but she figured that all of the gifts she received from her patrons would be extremely valuable for trade. But that made it all the more difficult for her to find a place to store the amphora. 

After several unsuccessful attempts of trying to shove the amphora into her bag, she decided to lay it on top of her closed bag. Hoping that Cingerix would take it when he arrived to pick up her things.

Done with packing, she fastened a black cloak around her, preparing herself to say goodbye to Cassius. If she hadn’t promised Syphax that she would, she wouldn’t have gone to see him. She wasn’t ready for another goodbye. She had said her farewells to Sabina the night before, she had  _ wept  _ when she had to say goodbye to her dear friend. How would she react when she had to say goodbye to Cassius? She had told him that she believed the gods favored their union. But did they really? She was leaving for Gaul in less than two hours and he was the most hated man in Rome. What kind of favor was that? What kind of love could endure that? Caesar’s death hadn’t only changed them, it changed their whole relationship. Despite her feelings for him, she knew that they wouldn’t survive this. 

Antony had let her go. Had allowed her to live and to make a life for herself. She would be foolish not to take advantage of that. She was free and Cassius would be punished, and she was to let him face his fate alone. No, it didn’t matter if the gods favored their union or not. Because in the end, Lysandra was selfish and a coward.  _ She _ wouldn’t allow them to be together.

In truth, she was afraid of what would happen to her if she were to stay with him. If she had allowed him to claim her completely. Even if she wanted to start a life with him, she was afraid to do so. She didn’t trust herself to be happy with him-with any Roman-she certainly didn’t believe that she would be happy in Rome. Gaul was the safest choice.

But she couldn’t avoid Cassius forever, she still owed him a goodbye. Her body began to tremble.  _ Just one last goodbye and this will all be over. You will get to go home, and be free of Rome at last.  _

She pretended that she was already the chief and told herself that she would not bow to anyone. She told herself that she would never surrender to a man. She would never surrender her heart to anyone. With fake confidence and a cold heart, she made her way to Cassius. 


	2. Dancing With Our Hands Tied

The sun glared down on her as she stood in front of Cassius’s front door. Her resolve fracture a bit. Lysandra’s heart ached for what she was about to do, but not enough for her to run away. It wasn’t enough for her to change her mind and decide to stay in Rome with him. 

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The pattering noises of feet grew louder as someone drew closer to the entrance, then the door opened. A servant girl looked at Lysandra with shock. With hasty movements she welcomed her inside, “He’s in his room,  _ domina _ , I can sh-”

“Thank you, but there is no need. I know the way.” She brushed pass the servant and made her way to Cassius’s bedroom. 

She stopped at the entrance of his room when she saw that he was asleep. Lysandra frowned as she had an internal battle with herself. She could leave now and not have to say goodbye to him personally. Sabina had already offered to update her on Cassius when they wrote to each other; Lysandra could write a note to Cassius and leave it with Sabina to give to him. Lysandra looked at him as he slept. She could  _ leave. _

He shuddered in his sleep and pain clenched Lysandra’s heart. No, she couldn’t just leave. She wanted to be with him in this moment, when he needed comfort the most. Pushing herself off from the wall, she crossed to the other side of the room to him. Slowly, she sat down onto his bed, trying not to disturb him. Up close she could see the worry lines framing his face. Saw how they aged him. In his sleep he was truly vulnerable. He could tell her that he was fine when he was awake, but seeing him like this she knew the truth. Lysandra couldn’t help but blame herself for his worry. Whenever he would ask her what he should do about Caesar, she pushed her own agenda. She told him that violence was the only way to stop Caesar. She made him change his ideals for her.

She had corrupted him.

She had turned his soul black.

She was the reason why he had fell from grace.

She would hate herself forever for extinguishing his light.

He mumbled something in his sleep, and even though his words were incoherent she could still sense the fear in them. Lysandra wasn’t surprised that he was sleeping in the middle of the day, she had come to fear the dark as well.

“It’s okay. You’re safe with me,” she whispered to him as she slowly sat down, the bed creaking slightly. Seeing him asleep softened her heart, his handsome face truly mesmerized her. She was tempted to run her hand along his face. To run her thumb over his full bottom lip, over the creases around his eyes, along his rosy cheeks.

But the longer she gazed at him, the more it occurred to her that she would never see him again. She leaned in closer to him, to brush his hair out of his eyes. He jolted awake at the touch. His eyes widened with alarm as his hand closed around her wrist.

Lysandra tried not to show her surprise at his reaction. Instead she smiled reassuringly, “It’s okay, Cassius. It’s me. I’m here.”

“Lysandra,” her name came out in a breath before he reached to kiss her. She could feel the desperation in his kiss but she didn’t return the fervor. She decided then that this would be the last time she would let him kiss her. She wanted their last kiss to be soft and sweet, she wanted something that was the complete opposite of what she was. To pretend that she was as great as Cassius thought she was. So she kissed him slowly before pulling away.

She grinned down at him, her knuckles grazing his cheek, “Go back to sleep, you look terrible.”

He gave a startled laugh before his expression turned serious, “Will you stay with me?”

She nodded, “Of course.”

Cassius pulled her down gently next to him as he lay back down. She wrapped an arm around his torso and draped one of her legs over his. Once she was comfortable she rested her head over his chest, as he pulled the blanket up to cover them both. The gentle rhythm of his heartbeat nearly lulled her to sleep like a lullaby. Forever the song of her dreams.

“I wish I could forget,” Cassius said quietly. Lysandra looked up at him in a daze before snapping back into reality, quickly recognizing the sorrow and horror written all over his face. Lysandra knew that look all too well; it was the same look she had seen in the mirror. But she remembered that she hadn’t felt that pain when she created her song earlier that day. She wanted to share it with him, so that for a moment he could be happy. “I wrote a song today, would you like to hear it?”

“I would love to.” Sunlight filtered through the drawn curtains, reflecting off of the gold ring he had given her. The light illuminated his face. He looked like a sun god when he smiled at her. Like he had made the sun shine on them alone. She pretended that Apollo would shed a light on them forever.

Lysandra closed her eyes, letting the calm that had washed her clean earlier overtake her, and she began to sing. 

When she was finished, she slowly opened her eyes to see that Cassius was just opening his as well. “That song Lysanda… I don’t know how to describe it… it felt like it set me free. I wanted to forget everything and for a moment I did.”

He met her gaze with wonder.

She smiled cheekily at him, “I hope it didn’t make you forget me.”

Cassius kissed her forehead. He smiled sincerely at her, “You’re like a song, Lysandra. I could never forget you.” 

Lysandra beamed at him, she opened her mouth to tell him something but the words died on her lips. The words slipped from her thoughts…

_ “No one will remember your name, Princess of Gaul. I’ll make sure of it.” _

“Lysandra? Are you alright? Lysandra-”

Cassius’s voice brought her out of her memory, but it was too late. Her mood was spoiled once again. What’s worse, she remembered why she had came here in the first place. Frowning, Lysandra pulled herself out of Cassius’s embrace. She could feel him watching her, confusion radiated off of him. She refused to meet his gaze. “I have to go,” she mumbled. 

Cassius sat up in his bed warily as Lysandra stood up and straightened her dress. She pulled her hood tighter around her. Lysandra knew that Cassius had suspected that she was hiding something from him. It was still painful when he asked, “You’re not returning to the  _ scholae _ , are you?”

She tried to control her heartbeat before she answered.  _ Gods.  _ “No, I’m not returning to the  _ scholae, _ ” was all that she had managed to say. Composing herself, she tried again. “I’m going home. To Gaul.”

When she finally lifted her head to look at him, she saw that he was surprised with her news. She rushed on to say, “Antony let me go unpunished. He even gave me the option to stay in Rome or return to Gaul.”

Cassius’s eyes widened at that. Then his jaw slackened.

“I-I would rather rebuild my tribe than try to make a life here.”  _ I would rather rebuild my tribe than try to make a life here with you _ . She didn’t have to say those words out loud for him to understand what she meant. She wanted to tell him that she loved him. That in another life she would have chosen him. If she had felt like she was safe in Rome she would have stayed with him. But she knew that she would never be safe in Rome. Even though Antony had pardoned her, she didn’t trust him enough to uphold his promise. 

There was no doubt in her mind that he would make her life difficult. She could already imagine him smirking at her when they crossed paths while he had another woman on his arm. She could picture him not blessing her baby during Vulcanalia just to spite her. Her heart ached when she thought of Artemis picking Antony over her. Of him demanding that she give Artemis back to him. She couldn’t live like that! She  _ wouldn’t _ let him her control her like that. Living in Rome while Antony was alive would be torture and Lysandra was done living in fear. 

She needed her freedom more than she needed Cassius’s love. Gaul meant freedom, Rome meant imprisonment. She hoped that Cassius understood that. Cassius was the only thing she had in Rome. That paled in comparison to what she would have in Gaul: her family, her tribe, her best friend. She would rather be the chief of a forgotten tribe than be the wife of a fallen senator. He had to understand that.

_ Please understand that. _

Lysandra stepped up to Cassius, cupping his cheek in her hand. Her voice was just above a whisper, “Cassius?”

Cassius shook his head slightly, eyes blinking rapidly. It looked like he was trying to wake up from a bad reverie. He drew his head away from her, his whole expression was one of angst. It took a few moments before he replied, “I don’t know what to say… Lysandra, I-”

“Cassius, I do care for you. I tried so hard not to but deep down I knew. I always knew that I l-”

Cassius’ eyes lit up. Lysandra stopped herself. She wouldn’t tell him that he was the love of her life. She wouldn’t tell him her true feelings. Or what she truly thought of him. That she believed that no man had compared to him. That no man had made her want to sigh when she saw him. How his green eyes filled her with tranquility when she looked into them.

She redirected her words, despite Cassius fully knowing what she was about to say. His posture slackened once he realized that she wasn’t going to declare her love for him. He nodded, letting her know that he would listen to whatever she had to say and not interrupt her.

“I never expected you. You walked into my life as a patron, and somehow you became something more to me. And you were so different from me. You were sweet, and gentle, and-and-and I don’t know  _ how  _ you brought down my defenses. Before you, I never thought I would want to marry and have children. I never thought I would have what my parents had. All of a sudden I wanted that with you, Cassius.”

Lysandra paused for a moment, pondering her words. Surprised that she had even admitted that to him. Even though her mother had told her that her greatest wish for her was to find true love, Lysandra never thought it would happen. She hadn’t had a lover prior to the invasion of Gaul, nor did she have any strong feelings for anyone either. She hadn’t realized how strong lust was until she had kissed Marc Antony. But that lust faded in comparison to the love she had felt when Cassius smiled at her. To fall in love with Cassius, a Roman no less… it had to be orchestrated by the gods.

But it didn’t matter what the gods wanted, all that mattered was what Lysandra had wanted. She wouldn’t let anything stop her from achieving her dreams. Not even love, not even Cassius. “But you weren’t part of my plan. It was always my goal to go back to Gaul. That is my dream. And your dream Cassius, your dream is Rome.

“And I’m choosing Gaul over Rome.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. “I don’t want to lose you, Cassius, but I need to choose Gaul over you.”

Cassius was silent for a moment. He reached out to tuck a strand of black curls away from her face. He looked at her earnestly as one of his hands cupped the nape of her neck while the other grazed her cheek. “You will never lose me, Lysandra. I’ll track the sun, I’ll gaze at the stars, I’ll climb mountains and cross rivers just to be with you.” Her whole body softened at his words. Her heart sped up, then slowed down to a dreamy rhythm. She imagined Cassius waking early to see the sunrise, looking over the horizon for her. Of him searching the night sky for her. Of him making the journey from Rome to Gaul.

She leaned in closer to him, but stopped herself. How desperately she wanted him. To be with him. She imagined what would happen if she had allowed herself to love Cassius the way she had wanted to love him. They would go to the lake together. He would write his poetry and she would write songs. Then one day they would take their children to that spot. Tears began to prickle her eyes as she thought of the life she would never have with him. But she couldn’t allow herself to become enchanted with what could have been.

He reached for her hands. Once they were entangled in his, he kissed hers and rested them against his heart, “Lysandra, I lo-”

“No, don’t say that.” She loved to hear those words too much. Pulling her hands out of his grip, she stepped away from him. She could have sworn that he smiled sadly at her. 

Why couldn’t he be Gallic? Had he been born into her tribe, she would never have to choose between the two. But he wasn’t and now it was time for their story to come to an end.

It was time to let him go.

“Don’t come to Gaul, don’t come looking for me.” Though a piece of her died, she told the biggest lie she had ever told a patron, “I don’t want to see you again.” Her fingers fumbled over her ring as she tried to remove it. Momentarily getting stuck on her knuckle before she yanked it off.

She thrust the ring at him. He stared back at it, shaking his head, “No.”

“Take it,” she held the ring closer to him with a trembling hand, whispering urgently, frantically. Borderline hysterically, “ _ Take it. _ ”

But he didn’t make a move to grab it, still insisting that he wouldn’t take it back. Her whispers grew more frantic, more chaotic, until she became frustrated.

“Take. The. Ring. Cassius!” She reached for his hand, and pried his fingers open. Slapping the ring into his open palm, turning his skin bright red. The smack echoed throughout the room.

Cassius was incredulous, “You told me moments ago that you wanted a life with me and now you’re telling me that you never-”

Lysandra snapped, “I’m a courtesan, Cassius! I say whatever people want me to say! I’ve been doing that with  _ you  _ for months!

“I did that to Antony and you knew it.” She crooned tauntingly at him, “So what made you think that I didn’t do it to you? What made you think that you were above being a courtesan’s pawn. What made you think that I could have possibly loved you?” A cruel laugh, “What made you think that I would have  _ married you _ .”

From the corner of her eye, she saw the sky darkening through the curtains. The room was soon cast in shadows, Cassius’s face with it. A muscle ticked in his jaw, his eyes no longer held any warmth for her, no love.  _ Good,  _ she thought. Make him think that he disgusted her so that he would hate her. Just like she did with Antony.

Her gaze dropped to the ring in his hand. It had lost all of its luster. It had shined so bright, now it was dim. Not even Apollo’s light could save them from the darkness she caused.

“You were a fun distraction, but that was all,” she quipped with a nonchalant shrug before turning away from him. “I wish you well,  _ domine.”  _ His gaze burned her as she sauntered out of his room, out of his villa, out of his life.

Lysandra waited until she was a few blocks away from Cassius’s villa before she found an alcove near the market to duck inside of.

She slumped down it, her hand going to her mouth as she tried to stop the tears from coming, trying to stop the whimper that threatened to escape from her lips.

She had no regrets about choosing Gaul over Cassius, but she hated that she had to choose at all. Hated how she had left him. By turning him against her, making him believe that there had never been anything between them, when in reality loving him was the one thing she did right. It was the only way to convince him to let her go, she told herself. But maybe she didn’t have to let him go.

Maybe she could have convinced him to run away with her, Rome was in chaos and Antony…

Antony would want revenge.

There was no hope in her heart that Cassius would be as fortunate as she was. And if he were, that fortune wouldn’t last for long. It couldn’t. Surely he would be punished for what he did to Caesar. Antony was and always will be his enemy. 

Even though Antony had decided to negotiate with the Senate for peace, she didn’t believe that he was sincere about it. She remembered how Lena had told her and Xanthe to never trust that powerful men would choose peace over battle. She didn’t trust that Antony would uphold his promise. He was too ambitious for peace.

Then there were rumors that Octavian was to return to Rome soon…

Anxiety overtook Lysandra, clawing at her heart and making her feel ill. Cassius was in danger and she left him. She had never even told him that she loved him. He would die believing that she hated him.

Her nails dug into the stone at her back before she pushed herself from the wall. When she looked up, she stopped in her tracks.

Her blood ran cold.

Antony was  _ here _ .


	3. Get Free

Lysandra froze when she saw Antony across the market. She tried to look away before he noticed her gaze, but she looked away too late. Her heart raced, and a cold sweat broke across her skin as he looked back at her. She didn’t know what scared her more: his burning fury or his chilling indifference. She didn’t know which Antony she would have to face if he approached her. She just knew that she didn’t want anything to do with him. She didn’t want to see him, touch him, or think of him. But despite her best efforts she remembered their last meeting...

_ Lysandra felt like he was holding a burning torch up to her face. Once the image of that torch entered her mind she thought it was actually happening. Instinctively she turned her face away from him and shut her eyes. Her body began to shake. Beads of sweat cascaded down her back. The pulse in her throat quickened. Her breathing came in short, shallow breaths. She could barely hear what he was saying over the ringing in her ears. Something about crucifixion? _

_ “No,” he tilted his head as he scrutinized her, “That wouldn’t be humiliating enough for you, would it?” _

_ She struggled to speak. Her voice failing her. She bet that Antony took great pride in seeing her like this. She had a response for everything, but not this time. There was never a time where he had truly left her speechless. She always had something to say to him. A way to deal with him. Whether that was by flirting with him or yelling at him, at least she had something to say. None of that mattered now, not when it came to this meeting. This was when she needed her voice the most, but it was failing her. It occurred to her then that she had never been truly afraid as she was now.  _

_ She had never given into fear. _

_ Until now. _

_ Now, she had no hope for the future.  _

_ When Rome had burned her village she had faith that the other tribes would aid them and they would all destroy Rome together. When Syphax was captured she hadn’t allowed herself to fall into despair for what she had condemned him to, she never gave up on freeing him. When she was separated from her family she had held onto the hope that they would see each other again.  _

_ Her family.  _

_ She had to fight for them. Everything she did was for them. If she couldn’t live then she will plead their case. “Spare my family,” she choked on the words. “I’ll take any punishment, will face any death if it meant that they would live.” _

_ His lips twitched into a cold smile, “I know.” She had allowed herself to be his gift to Caesar in exchange for the lives of her father and Syphax after all. _

_ Antony continued to stare at her, no doubt he was purposefully dragging out the suspense, always turning things into a spectacle for his own pleasure. She grew more agitated with the second. She felt the muscles in her thighs and biceps tighten. She wanted to scream,  _ “Tell me my punishment, you bastard!”  _ But he always enjoyed games and this was the game to end all games. To see the cold and prideful Lysandra become undone and beg for her life in front of the First Man of Rome… that had to be the greatest prize of all. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had longed to see her like this more than he had longed to see her body.  _

_ Despite his bravado, she wondered if he was heartbroken over her betrayal-for using his love for her to accomplish her vengeance, and just didn’t want to show it. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was punishing her for Rome or for himself. _

_ Just as the thought crossed her mind, he spoke again. “Frankly, I don’t care what happens to you. Stay in Rome or go home to Gaul, I’ll leave the choice to you.” _

_ Lysandra felt like she had just experienced whiplash. He had stumped her. He was letting her go? Just like that? Hope rose in her just as an alarm went off in her head,  _ No! He’s lying to you! There’s a price, there’s always a price! 

_ As much as she wanted to believe in her false hope, the warrior in her wouldn’t allow it. The voice inside her head was right, there was always a price. Antony wouldn’t let her go without some sort of punishment.  _

_ “What’s the-” _

_ “Whether you choose to stay here or go home, know that you will be nothing. You will have to rebuild a new life for yourself no matter what you choose. You will either be the most hated woman in Rome or be the Queen of Nothing in Gaul. You will live the rest of your life in the dirt, with no chance of becoming something greater-” _

_ “Oh, you are a fucking bastard.” _

_ “-You will be stripped of any influence you had in Rome. You will be scoured from the annals and forgotten. No one will remember your name, Princess of Gaul. I’ll make sure of it.” Lysandra’s eyes widened. She had told her father that her greatest dream was to be remembered. She had told him that destroying Rome would be her legacy. She had done just that. She had killed Caesar, a Roman god in his own right, and she was to be deprived of that glory? Antony was taking her dream away from her. _ I should have killed him...

_ He smiled slyly at her, “That’s what I would have done to Aquila had you not murdered him.” _

_ Antony had made her the most powerful woman in Rome. Had made her the Queen of Vulcanalia, but now he had turned her into… into The Queen of Nothing... He had taken her dream away from her. If he would leave her dreamless, then she would become his nightmare. “Are you trying to make Rome forget me, or are  _ you  _ trying to forget _ me _?” _

_ The triumph left his eyes as it was replaced with fury. His smile turned into a grimace. She had found a dent in his armor. Had left a battle wound in his skin. She now knew that her punishment was more for himself than it was for Caesar. Lysandra knew that Antony wouldn’t wipe Cassius’s name away from history because he wanted Rome to remember him. To remember that Cassius was a murderer and a traitor. Antony wanted the whole world to remember their hatred for Cassius; but he wanted to forget that he had ever loved a courtesan. _

_ Lysandra gave him a sly smile, “You’re going to miss me when I’m gone. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to erase me away from history, because you’ll never be able to forget me. Any woman that you’re with, you’ll wish it was me. I’ll be in your thoughts during your waking hours and I’ll haunt your dreams. And when your life comes to an end, you’ll think of me. You’ll wonder what I came to be.” She stepped up closer to him, her green eyes meeting his dark ones, “And you’ll wonder if I ever thought of you the way you thought of me.You’ll wonder if I ever loved you the way you loved me. _

_ “And that uncertainty will kill you more than any poison, more than any blade.” She brushed her lips against his, he gasped against her lips, surrendering to her. She pulled away from him before he wrapped his arms around her. “I am the poison and the blade. I will be the death of you.” _

_ With a smirk, Lysandra gave him a mocking bow, just like he had always done to her. She turned away from him before he could do anything to her, and walked out of the basilica. Once she felt like she was out of his line of sight, she ran all the way to the scholae, scared for her life. _

They stared at each other from across the market. Was he remembering their last meeting like she was? Lysandra couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to him, if luck would bless him or curse him. She shook her head at the thought. She had told him that he would spend his whole life wondering about her, she hated that she was doing that now. 

Though if she were being honest, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since he pardoned her. He had claimed he spared her just so she could live the rest of her days struggling, she didn’t quite believe him. He knew her after all, he knew her better than anyone. He had to know that she would never give up. That she would rise from the ashes, from the fire he had set her on. Surely he knew that she wouldn’t be “living in the dirt” for the rest of her life. He had told her himself that he believed that she was meant for bigger things. Was he secretly hoping that she would survive what he had condemned her to? That she would prove him wrong and become even more powerful than when she was a courtesan? Maybe he was hoping that she would return for him one day, that she would come to love him… If he hadn’t threatened to crucify her she might have considered his actions romantic. 

Perhaps she had done something right. Maybe despite all of her mistakes and all of her maneuverings over him, maybe Antony did actually come to love her.

She hated to admit it, but a part of her had started to care for the man under the armor. He challenged her in ways that no one had ever done. Her temper and coldness had matched his. And she had gotten a thrill from their exchanges just as much as he had.

But they were too alike, too passionate, too wild. The same passion that had matched hers would have destroyed her. He would have turned her into ash before she could even light him on fire. She could survive anything he had done to her, but she wasn’t sure if she could survive _ him _ .

Yet, Lysandra couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she were to return to Rome one day? Would she have fallen in love with Antony? How would they have reconciled? She imagined him falling out of his chair as she walked into the senate building years later. Lysandra laughed out loud at the thought. He always had the most amusing reactions

Antony glared at her and Lysandra’s laughter was cut short, she quickly clamped her mouth shut.

_ Shit _ , she thought to herself.  _ Shit, shit, shit. _

That definitely wasn’t an amusing reaction.

He began to walk towards her, murder in his eyes and pride in his gait.

Lysandra’s grew more anxious with each step he took. Her surroundings became blurrier, but he became clearer. She wasn’t able to pull out her knife from its sheath. She couldn’t even bring herself to run away. She hated the power he held over her.  _ I should have killed him.  _

Antony stopped abruptly. He probably thought that she was purposely baiting him. 

He looked her over, his eyes scanning her. Gauging her reaction. Observing her. Calculating, always calculating. 

Did she look as frantic as she felt? She wondered if he knew that her legs were about to give out. Her whole body felt like it would go limp at any second and would collapse to the floor. Had he realized how fear had paralyzed her? Did he take joy in that or did a part of him feel guilty?

A slow smile grew on his lips and he gave her a knowing look. Antony bowed his head towards her, and then he walked away from her. He had definitely noticed that he had frightened her and he had taken great pride in it.  _ Damn him _ , she thought,  _ he won again. _

Once he was out of sight, Lysandra sighed. She didn’t know if it was one of relief, regret, or resentment. She felt an ache in her jaw and a flash of pain in her hands. When she looked down, she realized that her hands were clenched into fists. She opened them and saw that her nails had embedded crescent shaped marks into her palms. And they had caused her to bleed. Lysandra wanted to punch Antony’s face just for that.

After a few moments, Lysandra looked up around her, saw that people were staring at her without trying to be obvious about it. They were probably hoping for some sort of lover’s quarrel between her and Antony. Maybe they were even hoping that she would slap him before kissing him passionately. Kissing him like she had during Vulcanalia. Lysandra rolled her eyes at that before closing them. 

A headache began to rise, being around Antony always gave her a headache. She massaged her forehead as she tried to calm her breathing. She needed to get out of Rome. She needed to be free from all of this pain and suffering. She needed to be free of Antony and Cassius.

Slowly, sluggishly, she made her way through the market with her head down. She barely dodged people as she passed by them. Avoided the vendors trying to advertise their finest goods. She kept on walking, pulling her cloak tighter around her as it began to rain, softly and melodically.

Raindrops spotted her vision, but the world had never seemed so clear.

She realized that she had fallen for the type of men that she vowed to never fall for. Antony may have respected her, but everything was a game to him. He always had to have the upper-hand. He had told her that she wouldn’t like losing, but he had proven to hate it more. He always had to beat her. She always had to watch what she said and did around him. Whether he had intended to or not, he had controlled her. And Cassius… despite all of his love for her, was selfish. She had to pretend that she was someone that she wasn’t when she was with him. She always had to coddle him and put his feelings before hers. He was holding her back.

She had allowed lust and love to cloud her judgement. 

Now she knew that they were no good for her, they didn’t deserve her. They had caused her more pain than joy, more fear than hope. She would never give them the power to control her. She would never welcome them into her heart again. It was best that she never thought of them as lovers, or even as patrons. In her memories, Cassius would be a senator that she had seen in passing once. She would remember Antony as the general that would host celebrations. They would become nothing to her, so that she would feel nothing for them.

And if Cassius or Antony were to meet a tragic end, she vowed not to shed a single tear. 

Rome didn’t deserve her tears. She would have no sympathy for it. 

It never had any sympathy for her, even now she had to make the effort to ignore the self-righteous plebeians as they called out to her- “whore!” and “murderer!” But they never did anything more to her, in fear that she would gut them. Finally they had realized that she was Lysandra of the Catauni, Princess of Gaul, a Warrior. Not a Courtesan of Rome.

Raindrops continued to fall. Faster, harder, wilder. It matched her fury. It matched her heart. It was Gaul calling her home. 

She answered it. 

If her hatred for Rome had granted her eight years of life, then Gaul would grant her an eternity. She would live for Gaul. She would love for the Catauni. She would be brave for them.

She never wanted to be afraid again. She didn’t want to fear for her life. She didn’t want to be afraid to fall in love or accomplish her dreams.

So she let go of everything. Rome. Antony. Cassius. She said goodbye to all of it.

Finally, she saw her family and Syphax in the distance, beyond the outskirts of Rome. Syphax and her father were loading the last of their possessions. Artemis ran up to her and Lysandra got down on her knees to scratch her tummy.

“Get up you lazy cur!”

Lysandra gasped, pretending to be insulted, “Don’t talk to Artemis like that!”

Cingerix snorted, “I was talking to you, not her. Artemis has actually been helpful, while you-” Cingerix glanced at Lysandra, his brow furrowed as he took in her wet appearance, “While you fell into a lake?”

“It was raining near the market earlier.”

“Ahh,” Cingerix said, gazing at the horizon. The storm clouds drawing nearer to them. She wondered if he knew why she was on the other side of the city, knew what she was up to. If he did know, he didn’t ask her about it. She was thankful for that. He nodded, “We’re just about done. Come on, cur.”

Lysandra stood up. Cingerix gave her a deadpan look, “I was talking to the dog.”

“Ha-ha,” Lysandra said before punching his arm. Cingerix simply grinned at her. As she followed him to where the rest of her tribe was, she asked him, “Where’s my monkey?” Lysandra had scarcely seen Cirta in weeks, ever since Cingerix came back into her life. He hadn’t even asked if he could have him, he simply scooped Cirta into his arms and took him.

Cingerix ignored her, dumping some blankets into her arms, he pointed at the cart furthest from them, “Put these blankets over there.” 

Lysandra scrunched her nose at his authoritative tone and yanked the blankets away, heading to the direction where he had pointed to. She had just put the blankets away when she heard skittering noises. Lysandra’s eyes narrowed as she leaned into the cart, searching for the noise. Something reflected in the dark and before her mind could process what it was, it lunged for her.

_ “Ahhhh!” _ Lysandra let out an ear-piercing scream and covered her face with her forearms. She heard cheerful chittering sounds-and  _ laughter. _ Lysandra furiously removed her arms from her face,  _ “Cingerix!” _ Cingerix’s laughter grew louder. 

“Cirta-” Lysandra turned back to the monkey, trying to calm her racing heart, “Cirta. What are you  _ doing? _ ” She reached out to grab for him, but Cirta dodged her, darting out of the cart. Knocking into Lysandra and making her crash into the cart.

The cart shook at the collision. She heard some clattering and when she found the source of the noise, she saw the amphora laying haphazardly on top of a pile. It started to tether side to side. Lysandra reached out to grab for it before it fell. 

But the longer it was in her hands the more she wanted to destroy it. It was the last thing she had to remember Cassius, to remember the love they had once shared. If she destroyed it, she would destroy the last of them, and break the bond between her and Cassius for good. Then she would be free of him.

Before she could think the better of it, she lifted the amphora over her head. Closing her eyes, she released it.

Her heart skipped a beat as she anticipated the shattering sounds of pottery. Lysandra barely registered the sudden yell… and a thumping sound? It wasn’t what she had quite expected to hear. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Syphax before her. He held the amphora in his hands, his eyes wide. Once recognition crossed his mind that he had saved the fragile gift, he laughed with relief. Syphax faced her with an accomplished smile, “Told you I wouldn’t let you break it.”

Lysandra smiled slyly at him and turned away from him. Over her shoulder she simply said, “Hm.” As if she were telling him, “We’ll see.” She could have sworn that she heard Syphax gulp. Even though she probably unsettled him a little, he followed her to the horses. 

A few minutes later, the Catauni were ready to head out. Victus, Delphinia, and Cingerix led from the front, with Artemis gleefully trailing after them. Slowly, the Cautani began to exit out of Rome. Lysandra stayed in the back. She had told her parents that she would guard the rear, but in truth she wanted to gaze at Rome one last time.

She took it all in. The grand buildings and god-like statues. The paved roads and gushing water fountains. Even from a distance, she could see some people mingling about. 

Syphax rode up next to Lysandra and they gazed at Rome together.

The setting sun gave the city an angelic glow, making it look like paradise. But the darkening sky said otherwise. Lysandra knew otherwise. The architecture was built by the bones of the oppressed. The water fountains were filled with the blood of the conquered. The jewels were ripped off of the necks of those they had slaughtered. And the people… they felt that they were part of the greatest civilization the world had ever seen, and everyone else were barbarians. But that wasn’t the case at all, they were the barbarians.

Syphax squeezed her hand, “It’s time to go…”

Lysandra gave a sharp nod, not fully comprehending what he had said. She blinked a few times, trying to readjust to her surroundings. The sun was now low in the sky, beams of light barely breaking through the dark clouds. She frowned at Rome before she met Syphax’s gaze. 

He gestured with his head behind him, “Everyone’s just about cleared out, we should probably be on the lookout now.” 

With a nod from her, they both turned their horses around and began to follow the rest of the Catauni. She had to resist the urge to look back at Rome, to look for  _ them _ . She clutched at the reins and forced herself to face forward, towards Gaul. After a few minutes, she relaxed in her seat. The temptation was gone.

Up ahead she heard her parents and Cingerix laughing. She smiled when she saw Cirta resting on Cingerix’s shoulder, chittering happily while Cingerix smiled brightly at Euthymios.

Lysandra looked around her and saw that all of her people were talking with excitement, it made her heart swell. Quietly, she began to hum the song she had composed that day. Syphax looked at her with excited curiosity. She grinned at him before singing out loud. 

Syphax listened to her voice intently, eventually being able to match her rhythm and then he was singing the lyrics along with her. And soon everyone was singing her song. She cringed when she heard Cingerix’s cracking singing voice from the front, but she was still grateful for his support. For all of her tribe’s support. 

Under a blanket full of stars, Lysandra blushed at the thought of the Catauni continuing to sing her song once they arrived home to Gaul. They would sing it in front of every campfire. They would sing it for generations after she was gone. Her song would be her legacy. She would be forever grateful that she had chosen Gaul over Rome.

As Lysandra traveled farther away from Rome, a calmness overtook her. It was stronger than her hatred for Rome. Stronger than the lust she had felt for Antony. It was even stronger than the love she had felt for Cassius. She was at peace. She was happy.

She smiled in the dark.

Lysandra was finally free.

**Author's Note:**

> The song that Lysandra sings was inspired by the song "Happy" by Marina and the Diamonds.


End file.
